


Crystal Ashtray

by gr0ss_cl0wn



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, I’m the nblw by the way lmao, Poetry, This is just me writing about how I want to live in a welsh cottage with my nblw girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18750808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr0ss_cl0wn/pseuds/gr0ss_cl0wn
Summary: Do u want a girlfriend? Do you want to live in a cottage?Do you like metaphors? If you answered yes to any of these, this is the mini-read for you!





	Crystal Ashtray

It was her ‘summer home’, or the cottage she bought in the English (Welsh) countryside after listening to me complain about my Nans home being sold.   
It was the kitchen, to be specific. 

The rough chunk of bumpy beige-with-salmon floor tile that was patterned with fruits and veggie baskets that had been knocked out of the step into the room. 

The wooden arch doorway with scratches and strokes, loving and loathing equally. Following the woodwork into the ceiling; beams of deep oaky spruce, carved into makeshift rectangles.   
The countertops that rimmed the left side of the room were divine, they each had a matching overhead-cupboard yet, above the oven, sat a cloudy silver vent that hung a pair of burnt yellow oven mitts, inevitably going to be destroyed in an attempt of chocolate-chip cookies.

A crumb-ridden breadbin, 3 pots for teabags, coffee grounds and sugar accompanied the kitchen roll holder like a clique of old ladies; underneath them hung a weary tea towel. 

“Look at the garden.”

She told me, but my eyes lay focused of the specks of soil peppering the windowsill and the underneath of her curious hands. The resting place of a plant, grown from its seedling to its departure, loved and harvested for herbal tea, no doubt. A mint leaf lay withered. 

We sat, silent on the table.   
The table, smooth and sleek despite being wood. Shined with glaze and circular, creaking in protest if you laid on it, forcing you to gently handle its wheel. It’s centrepiece was a crochet woollen-lace table cloth, a single crystal ashtray sat on the middle flower. 

“Do you like it?” She asked. 

My gaze peeled out into the acre of land we now owned. My gaze shifted from the mother lamb we now loved and to her son who we now raised. Their wool unmarked, their names forgotten. I looked into their shed and I looked back into her eyes, focused on the withered mint leaf that we would love as equally as we loved the lamb.

Her eyes climbed to mine and our hands sat, interlocked, next to the crystal ashtray we’d never use nor dispose of. We let ourselves burn in the flame but now we could rest in this crystal ashtray, hands next to this crystal ashtray, interlocked next to this crystal ashtray.

**Author's Note:**

> I jus,, really want a girlfriend ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
